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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28234971">seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafedeluna/pseuds/cafedeluna'>cafedeluna</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Handcuffs, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Slight Use of Edging</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:53:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28234971</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafedeluna/pseuds/cafedeluna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stay still for me, baby. Just a quick second,” Taeyong whispers against the column of Doyoung’s neck, the older boy's warm breath fanning over his skin that sends tingles down to Doyoung’s spine, settling on the back of his thighs and making his legs tremble.</p>
<p>He feels Taeyong’s hand release his hold but not the handcuffs that had taken his place.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This came out of nowhere. I'm blaming it on <a href="https://twitter.com/doie_tyoungie/status/1286684034957885440?s=19">dotae playing with handcuffs in that video from jpn</a>. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Doyoung just stands there, in the middle of his room while facing the mirror in the corner. He silently fixates his eyes on the purples painting his neck and the skin on his chest that isn’t being concealed by his shirt. His hair is a mess, lips still carrying the remnants of the night that transpired in the privacy of his own room一 an event that went on so slow but the adrenaline that coursed through his entire being that night was the antithesis of what Doyoung’s memory serves him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sees it evidently on the hickeys that're glaring at him through his reflection. Looking at the tiny spots conjures up small voices in his mind, like the bruises had just acquired a voice of their own. They lure Doyoung into thinking of himself, writhing on his own bed while a lithe body takes over him from above. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stay still for me, baby. Just a quick second,” Taeyong whispers against the column of Doyoung’s neck, the older boy's warm breath fanning over his skin that sends tingles down to Doyoung’s spine, settling on the back of his thighs and making his legs tremble. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Doyoung releases a small whimper but nonetheless nods under the dim lights of his room. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The next thing Doyoung hears is the click of metal over his head where his wrists are bunched up by Taeyong’s hand. A cold touch around his wrists. He feels Taeyong’s hand release his hold but not the handcuffs that had taken his place. The realization came to Doyoung, crashing in waves of arousal that drove a gasp out of him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Both of them drown in delectation. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Doyoung arches his back to the feel of rough hands on his taut stomach, grabbing, feeling and the occasional drag of nails on skin that he cries out in pleasure. The fire licks at him, lapping him up like a dripping ice cream on a waffle cone and when the tongue that does so reaches the crown of the delighful dessert, it sucks him in like a whirlpool. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The raven haired boy shakes but tilts his head back when one of Taeyong’s hands finds its way under Doyoung’s jaw and grasping his chin up. A pair of sly lips spreads into a smirk against Doyoung’s skin. “Just like that, Doie. So pliant for me.” Taeyong whispers but the voice seems to echo nonstop into Doyoung’s head and sending him tumbling down an abyss of need, of want. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Three bruises Taeyong counts to himself, putting each into mind; the way Doyoung twist under him, the sound he makes as they try to contain it among themselves but failing so, one leg hooked around Taeyong’s waist, chasing their own moments with a whimper hanging from their lips before it gets silenced into a bruising kiss.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Doyoung unconsciously clamps his teeth down on the plush of his lip, eyes fluttering close as the images flashes behind his eyelids and driving him insane once more. He grips his wrist, thumbs on the barely visible red mark around it, a result of whenever the edging gets too much and he tugs aggressively against the cold and hard steel of the handcuff, digging into his skin and eliciting both pain and pleasure all throughout his body一 a clear evidence that the handcuffs did really exist. “Oh fuck,” Doyoung mutters under his breath. He’s gonna have to wear sweaters for quite some time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes travel back to his reflection, this time Doyoung feels the bruises under the pad of his fingers. Moving from one purple spot to another, tentatively pressing on it lightly, just enough for a pain to spike a sensation that quickly dissolves into pleasure over the skin and making him hiss.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hyung一 hyung, please.” Doyoung whines— pleads, but Taeyong gives him anything but the press of hips against hips; or anything really that Doyoung can grind himself on, achingly hard in the constraints of his boxers. It’s only him, his throbbing cock and Taeyong’s lips that nips and bites on the skin of his neck, like a savage deprived of his dose of flesh. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Doyoung’s legs kick on nothing, heels digging into the mattress, toes curling, eyes shut.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A groan is bubbling in the back of his throat but he only digs his heels deeper, suppressing the sound from spilling like a grave sin tumbling from his lips. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Taeyong on the other hand is enjoying the show way too much to simply give in. With his knees planted on both sides of Doyoung’s legs, he keeps himself in a safe distance, away from a proximity that Doyoung could buck into.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But even so, it doesn’t last long. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Mouth crawls from busily trying to make another bruise blossom under the hollow of Doyoung’s neck. “How kind of you to ask nicely.” Taeyong murmured against Doyoung’s lips. Their breath mingles, hot air crowding their spaces. The calm before a storm before the sound that’s been coiling inside Doyoung spills from his lips like a sacred chant that Taeyong drinks in an open-mouthed kiss as he gives Doyoung everything he’s asking for. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A steady wall to flush himself onto. Slow, fast paced— lewd melodies filling every corner of Doyoung's room. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Rustles of sheets, of clothes being discarded until skin meets skin, the wet squelch of lube ringing in their ears. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Doyoung feels himself filling in his sweatpants. He breathes in raggedly. Mind all over the place, eyes looking past his reflection to fall unto his bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A knock comes breaking his thoughts from straying far into another lush depth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whips his head and meets the painter who made his body a raw canvas to paint and to taint. Doyoung glares at the silver haired boy who only beams at him with his boba eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I made breakfast,” Taeyong says. Voice as bright as the sun that’s shining behind Doyoung’s drawn curtains but Doyoung knows better, there’s no mistaking the mischief hiding behind those orbs that he always gazes into, no matter what the situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sure hoped so,” Doyoung answers, sarcasm dripping from his voice that makes Taeyong break out into a low chuckle一 brown eyes travelling down all over Doyoung’s tall figure and stopping on the obvious display of his bulge. “Shut up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Doyoung cuts him off before the older boy can even decide to comment about his hard on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taeyong laughs, hands suspended in the air. “Okay, I’ll leave you while you make your trip down the rabbit hole.” Taeyong chimes. “Don’t take too long, you don’t want to keep the food waiting.” The older boy adds and even has the audacity to throw Doyoung a wink before moving to step out into the common room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the door closes, Doyoung let’s out a heavy sigh. Hands already moving to untie the laces of his sweatpants. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://twitter.com/dotaeholic">twt</a> / <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/dotaebfs">cc</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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